Inclement Weather
by Ceasefire
Summary: -YuuriWolfram- Yuuri thought it was inappropriate to compare Wolfram to the rain.


Kyou Kara Maou is the rightful property of Tomo Takabayashi. This is a fanwork written purely for both your entertainment and mine.

I'm not sure about this, but I wanted to write something. So... here it is!

* * *

Yuuri thought it was inappropriate to compare Wolfram to the rain, the shifting seasons and weather, but for him it was the easiest comparison to draw from the blond's constantly changing moods. The weather was an uncontrollable face of nature, and the rain especially so, something that nothing that whatever higher power there was could command and certainly out of the reach of any normal man's hands.

Perhaps, then, it wasn't right to think of his kingship as something that set him apart. It was something he could barely control himself, and when he and Wolfram collided it was rarely a peaceful ending.

Yuuri's strength as the Maou often brought the wind and the rain, heavy storms to match the weight of his emotions and his heart, but it seemed as if nothing next to the stormy look that had existed in Wolfram's eyes the day he had mistakenly taken him as his fiancé. As first the subject had been avoided, thunder rumbling over both their heads, always in the back of their minds but never quite passing by and causing them worry beyond the point of having to put off thinking about it another day. With time had come acceptance (quickly for Wolfram, and at a pace that was positively crawling for Yuuri) and then the storm had come, their first kiss seeming almost like those last few seconds before it starts to rain, when the world seems to hold its breath.

The same look as in Wolfram's eyes, but this time, Yuuri barely noticed, let alone felt threatened by it. It crept up on him until it was practically breathing down his neck and when Wolfram stepped forward and pressed his lips against Yuuri's, there was no escape.

When it rains this heavily, there is no saving grace and no shelter. Not when you wanted to feel renewed by the feel of water against your skin.

In the end, they barely heeded it and didn't bother to seek shelter, desperate to be soaked through to the bone. A slow rhythm of lips to lips, skin to skin, heart to heart, and they were lost in the tempest forever. There had been little to no time to prepare, to think through the consequences, and perhaps it was better that way; not in terms of regret, but in terms of nerves and sudden changes of heart. Every move they made was made with utmost care and concern, knowing that one false move could send them both back into the midst of the drought. All that would be left to do would be to stand, hands on their hearts, and wait for the next group of clouds to crest the horizon.

Every move, every breath, every heartbeat. It all had to be perfect. Yuuri breathed slowly, hands carefully caressing Wolfram's bare skin, watching the blond writhe under his touch. He thought, with some irony, that if he could compare Wolfram to the weather and the seasons, then to control him like this, he must have been playing God in some small universe that was uniquely theirs.

The air around them seemed heated, shimmering as if from the humidity of a hot summer's day, Wolfram's hair curling out in golden tendrils against the dark calm of Yuuri's eyes as the young king watched his lover move, watched his mouth slowly shape the words they both needed to hear with swollen lips, as if savouring the taste of wholeness.

Yuuri nods, feeling breathless and like he doesn't need to speak regardless at the same time. It was a matter of a simple guiding pressure, a matter of Wolfram's flushed cheeks and raspy breath, and slow adjustment as the world seemed to end around them in a mix of a million different emotions and reactions and desires. It was then that Yuuri realised that Wolfram's was not a storm, not really, not like this.

He was his sun, as much as he had been from the beginning and until the bitterest of ends. At the end of every cold, dark night, light always returned, and Yuuri knew he could always count on Wolfram to be the constant in his life, and to always return to him.

It was a comforting feeling.

And at the end of it all, both Yuuri and Wolfram were more than happy to lay down together, rain barely falling and humidity lightening around them with every fresh gasp of air, and watch as the stars chased away the last light of day to give way to the night, reassured in knowing that their sun would always return.

**END**


End file.
